


Toeing the Line

by actingwithportals



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: (sort of), Discussions of Past Sexual Relationships, F/M, Gen, Herrah gives Lurien shit about his thirst for PK, Humor, I never write this kind of stuff so I apologize if I did not tag it fully correctly, Nothing sexual takes place just discussions of past interactions, Past Relationship(s), Suggestive Themes, Teasing, That interaction being the dalliance between Herrah and PK, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:07:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26257645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actingwithportals/pseuds/actingwithportals
Summary: It's no secret that the Watcher isn't fond of one of his fellow Dreamers, and it is no secret that the Beast feels much the same in return. But perhaps, if she found a way to get under his skin, working together could become considerably more bearable for Herrah.
Relationships: Herrah the Beast & Lurien the Watcher (Hollow Knight), Herrah the Beast & Monomon the Teacher (Hollow Knight), Herrah the Beast/The Pale King (Hollow Knight)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 73





	Toeing the Line

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for this mess, I just got struck by inspiration one night a few months ago and here we are. Don't expect much further content like this from me in the future lol
> 
> Also, this is still set in the We Are Wide Awake Now AU, but I'm not putting it into the series because I simply don't want to (and it's not immediately relevant).

“If you have something to say to me, speak. Otherwise, turn your eye elsewhere. It’s a bore to meet.”

The Watcher sputtered, turning his mask down to where his claws clicked together under his cloak in front of him, probably wringing themselves in his lap like the nervous little squib that he was. It was almost adorable; albeit in the same way a dirtcarver is when squirming while ensnared in a web. More accurately, it was tastefully amusing.

“I do not have any idea what you’re talking about,” he muttered, shuffling in his seat and finally raising his gaze once more into something not quite so pathetic. “Besides, it’s not like you leave much room to look elsewhere, anyways.”

Was that an attempt at a jab? _Oh, he was going to have to try harder than that._

“Wasn’t there something you wished to ask her Majesty?” the Teacher remarked, resting her mask delicately on a tentacle that was supported by the table they were seated around in wait of the embarrassingly late King of Hallownest.

_Honestly, where was that stupid Wyrm?_

“You are mistaken, Teacher,” Lurien huffed. “There is little of interest _her Majesty_ could tell me, I’m sure.”

“Is that so?” Herrah asked, resting her own mask against a claw, another set of arms crossing comfortably atop the table before her as she leaned forward. “You say little, but that implies there is _something_ , yes? Shall I take a guess? After all, we clearly have the time to spare, don’t we?”

The Watcher sputtered again, jerking his mask to look both directions and then behind himself, as if to make sure they were truly alone. Herrah supposed by his standards, they were. But the Pale King’s Pure Vessel stood watch by the door, still as the soul-infused statues that were placed throughout the palace. If not for the softness of their cloak, and the little tells in their mask that Herrah had come to recognize well, they might’ve looked indistinguishable from one.

When the Watcher seemed to be satisfied that there were not unwanted ears listening in, he returned his attention back to her and Monomon, leaning forward as if about to share a secret.

_Oh, this was going to be delicious, wasn’t it?_

“How—erm, was it um—what I mean to say, that is—”

The Teacher sighed beside her, the delicate patience of an educator such as herself wearing thin in his stuttering. “I believe he means to ask how our Sovereign performs, if I understand his shyness correctly.”

If the Watcher could have melted into his seat, Herrah was certain he would have in that moment.

Ah, there it was, then.

Herrah scrutinized him for a moment, letting him squirm under her gaze while she pretended to contemplate the question posed. But she did not hold this up for nearly as long as she would have liked, for despite what Lurien and Monomon might have thought, the room was indeed not empty.

She turned her attention to the Vessel, still standing like a statue by the door. “Be so kind as to fetch our dear Pale King, would you? He has kept us waiting long enough.”

Herrah did not enjoy giving the Vessel orders, for she knew they would follow any without question. But if she were going to have this conversation, she would rather the child of the subject matter not be present. For their sake as well as her own.

The Vessel did not hesitate in the command, turning silently and exiting the room with barely more than a swish of their cloak. Perhaps even more quickly than might’ve been necessary. Interesting.

Now then.

She returned her attention to the Watcher, who was working hard at what he did best, and eyeing her with an obviously questioning look. She would ignore that for now; there was something far more interesting to discuss in this moment.

“Do you wish to know for professional matters or is the desire something far more personal?” she asked, a single claw tapping lazily against her mask.

If Lurien could get any smaller he would have; it was almost too easy to get a rise out of him, it seemed. “I simply wish to know that our King has not been . . . soiled in the process.”

_Oh, he would think that, wouldn’t he?_ “And what do you mean by that?” Herrah asked, her tapping growing slightly faster in her frustration. “Do you think your King so unable to perform that He must relegate Himself to my whims above His own?”

“Well, I believe the terms were already _your whims_ , were they not?” he muttered, sounding bitter.

“Do not take it to heart, your Majesty,” the Teacher interjected. “I believe our dear Watcher is simply envious of your exploits.”

“I am not!” Lurien snapped, his voice almost cracking with the embarrassment. “My only concern is for that of my King.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re concerned with many things regarding your King,” Herrah barked in laughter. “Which concern would you like to address first, hmm? His performance? His contributions? Or perhaps the finer details?”

If she were honest, Herrah would consider the Pale King to have been disappointingly lacking in all of these areas, but the Watcher did not have to know that.

Lurien almost seemed to shudder, and whether it was out of shyness or want, she couldn’t quite tell. Perhaps a bit of both.

“Th-the first . . .” he mumbled quietly.

It took all of Herrah’s will to not hiss in amusement. _Oh, he was so predictable._

“Very impressive,” she drawled, letting her words drip with every bit of desire she did not actually come close to feeling at the memory. “His stamina almost outlasted my own. Almost, of course. Even the Pale King has His limits, I’m sure you would guess.”

Lurien gulped, and the shudder this time was, without a doubt, something far hungrier than simple embarrassment.

“He clearly knows what He’s doing,” she went on, letting the words fall from her mouth as if in languid disinterest. “I would bet He’s had many, many years of practice. And He utilizes it well.”

She could hear Lurien’s claws clicking against each other under his cloak, in what she guessed was a combination of both nerves and desire. “H-how do you mean?”

Herrah hummed, dropping her hand to trace slow circles with a claw along the table’s surface. “Let me say it this way, little Watcher; for someone of your King’s size, He certainly knows how to make use of every inch.”

Out of the corners of her left eyes, Herrah could see the Teacher just barely keeping herself together, a tentacle held over her mask as her bell shook with silent laughter.

“I-I see,” Lurien breathed. “H-how does . . . He well . . . you know . . .?”

“Contribute?” she asked, pretending to perk up in interest. “Very thoroughly. He has a number of appendages under that robe of His, and not all of them are for walking, you know.”

The Watcher perked up at this as well. “How many?” he asked, the neediness in his tone painfully apparent.

“ _Many,_ ” Herrah answered simply. “And He can use them all in tandem.”

Lurien was practically leaning out of his seat by this point, nearly halfway over the table when the door suddenly opened and in walked the Pale King Himself. With a lurch, and a very undignified squeak, Lurien fell back into his seat, rising quickly to straighten his cloak and bow respectfully to his Monarch. Herrah was almost disappointed; she had hoped the teasing to go on longer.

“Y-Your Majesty,” Lurien sputtered, bowing a second time to help relieve some of his wound-up tension, Herrah would have guessed.

The Pale King looked at him quietly for a moment, eventually letting His gaze pass over to Herrah and the Teacher. “Is something the matter?” He asked, His voice quiet as ever, yet the confusion was apparent, nonetheless.

“Not at all,” Herrah said, leaning back into her chair. “But you certainly took your sweet time. What, cannot all of those legs of yours carry you any faster?”

It might have been toeing the line a bit too closely in the Pale King’s own palace with their delicate respect, but the way the Watcher nearly fell over at her words made the risk worth it.

She would have to do this again, sometime.

**Author's Note:**

> Some notes:
> 
> 1 It took every last bit of resolve for Hollow to not yeet out of that room as fast as physically possible (which is quite a feat, considering they can teleport).  
> 2 PK knows exactly what Herrah did and he is just so fucking tired, god someone save him.


End file.
